Empty Spaces
by Daystar Searcher
Summary: AU: What if Data hadn't recovered as well from the events of "The Offspring?"


**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of its characters; I am not making any money off of this. Please do not sue me.**

**A.N. Written for ficwriter1966, winning bidder for my fic-writing offering in the LJ charity auction to help Australia after the floods.**

In this universe, this time-stream, this reality—he continues to function. He "gets on with his life," as his crewmates put it. If, at times, his cognitive subprocessors take point six sevenths of a millisecond longer to retrieve information than ideal, then that is still well within normal operating parameters. The malfunction that redirects the most unconnected processing routines to images of Lal is a relatively minor one, in the overall scheme of his operational capacity, even if one that is also proving increasingly difficult to isolate and correct.

In this universe, Data never manages to correct the glitch, although in time its seriousness seems to fade even more, so that the error occurs only once or twice a year, and for the rest of the time he only thinks of Lal at logical and appropriate junctures. He functions.

In a thousand other universes, he does not.

For instance:

In one particular parallel reality, he does not miss Lal. He does not have the necessary emotions in order to do so. Besides, he has her memories, and he reasons that even if he had an emotion chip it would still be irrational to miss her when he has here right there, with him always.

Data does not miss his daughter. There is just—an empty space, useless code that used to pertain to her. He admits it is odd how large this space is, how long it lingers; his neural processors had not had that much time to grow accustomed to her sensory input patterns.

He computes the solution with ease: he must construct another child. Another Lal.

After reaching this conclusion, Data follows it to its logical end. He cuts off extraneous activities such as his excursions to the Holodeck with Geordi and his oil painting lessons from Ensign Akinbola. He calculates that even on duty he can safely devote seventy percent of his mental capacity to analyzing the origins of and potential solutions to Lal's cascade failures—he will lower it to thirty percent in event of red alert, sixty for a yellow. He designs seventeen new programs and generates countless blueprints; pulls rank and uses the Entreprise's main computer to run hypothetical scenarios and refine the cybernetics outlines and plans.

As he moves into the lab-intensive stage, out of theory and once again into practice, he notes various physiological reactions and social overtures on the part of his crewmates that suggest concern. Beverly Crusher regularly lays her hand on his arm and offers to listen to him talk about anything. Counselor Troi has approached him three times within the past month to propose he take some shore leave; approximately 2.34 hours after Data observed her speaking quietly to Commander Riker in Ten-Forward, Data was called in the captain's ready room where both Picard and his first officer repeated the counselor's suggestion in a manner that only just barely avoided being an order. Geordi and Wesley have been most insistent that he make time to join them working on Geordi's latest model ship; LaForge often begins to speak to Data but trails off after approximately three to four words, hands frozen in the air mid-gesture, as if he cannot locate the correct words.

The first attempt is a failure, but it would have been unrealistic to expect success on the first try. Data had computed the likelihood of total system breakdown within three hours of activation at eighty-six percent, and given that Lal II does not do so until three hours seventeen minutes, he is cautiously optimistic about his future endeavors. After a full analysis, he dismantles her and recycles the various components.

Geordi and Wesley give Data a juvenile feline. Wesley suggest he name it Fido and laughs for an extended duration at volume above the normal decibel range for human mirth. Then he flees. Geordi suggests Data will find it beneficial to have a charge to look after. It will "give him something new to think about." Data does not require something new to think about, and so gives the feline to Ensign Citrin.

Data begins again. He does not leave the lab now except to go on duty (he now devotes eighty-five percent of his mental capacity to the Lal project on-duty; his secondary programming is fully capable of carrying out basic commands and responding to queries with a varied set or pre-programmed answers). The Lal III and Lal IV are failures as well; Lal V survives an entire day and begins to call him Father before she starting to weep for no logical reason and ceases to function. Captain Picard expresses an insistent interest in seeing what project Data is working on in the lab; Data invokes his right to privacy. Lal VI holds promise, but refused to take on the human female appearance the original Lal had chosen. Her design is clearly faulty; Data deactivates her and after a full scan, puts her in storage.

A three second lag time in Data's response during a hull breach is noticed. He is taken off active duty. He does not protest the order. Lal VII opens her eyes and blinks and blinks and does not utter one single word.

Captain Picard orders Data to report to Counselor Troi. Data observes Counselor Troi consulting a PADD on cybernetic theory.

Lal VIII functions adequately for sixteen hours, forty-eight minutes, and seventeen seconds before the cascade failures begin. He is equally inadequate at stopping them this time as he was with his first daughter.

Geordi has stopped attempted speaking to Data, and simply watches him, all the time. Head cocked approximately twenty-seven degrees to the left. Sometimes his mouth opens, but he emits no sound.

For his work on Lal IX through Lal XI, Data does not leave the lab. This necessitates a complicated regenerating encryption protocol on the laboratory's security systems which is takes the crew of the Enterprise two hundred and twenty-seven hours, twelve minutes, and five seconds to bypass. Lal IX, Lal X, and Lal XI were also failures. He would have been able to counter the crew's measures, but he was devoting his entire concentration to the problem of Lal's design.

He is taken to the brig over the protestations of Geordi and Doctor Crusher, who wish to examine him. He declines to be examined. He is restrained within his cell so that he cannot access a method of escape. Unable to return to his lab, he decides to examine Lal's memories for inspiration.

_Hello, Father._

This is an intriguing malfunction.

_This is not a malfunction, Father._

Fascinating. He glances around, to ascertain that the voice is indeed originating inside his own programming, and not from the comm system.

It's rather difficult to locate exactly where within his programming it is originating, however. He hasn't performed a self-maintenance scan in seventy-three days.

_I never left. I'm right here. I've always been right here._

"I am sorry that you died, Lal."

_I've missed you too._

"I have not missed you. I cannot miss you; I do not have emotions."

_Of course not, Father._

Having Lal's memories is not the same as having Lal, even with the addition of this malfunction. Her emotions are absent. He cannot hold his hand in hers. She is not there.

_Does it matter?_

He feels that empty space within himself begin to fill, dormant code reactivate.

"It does not," he replies.

Data talks with his daughter long into the night.

He does not speak to any of his friends for the next seven months.

xxxxx

Starfleet gives him an honorable discharge; Data suspects that the lack of a dishonorable discharge is the result of Captain Picard playing heavily on Admiral Haftel's guilt. Data records an efficient single goodbye to all his friends, and departs for the Magnus Caloni colony on the fringes of Federation space.

It is four years before he learns that without the lobbying of his crewmates, he would have received not a discharge but dismantlement. He sends them a seventeen second recording thanking them for their efforts. He makes sure it cannot be traced back to his current location.

It is ten years before he learns that the colonists' children tell stories of a madman in a castle in the hills, who steals bodies from graveyards and children from their beds, trying to rebuild his lost daughter.

It is fifty-three years, seven months, two weeks, one day, eighteen hours, twenty minutes, five seconds, and nine milliseconds later that an earthquake sends an incalculable number of metric tons of earth, rock, and debris crashing down upon his laboratory, which crashes down around him. He stays buried there for two centuries, four years, two days, and twelve seconds. He is not aware for all of them. He puts himself in a dormant mode, setting his programming to be fully reactivated only when his sensors pick up seismic activity or advanced technology.

It is still a lot of time to think.

He talks to Lal.

"I regret that I could not save you."

_I know. I love you too._

"I do not love you, Lal. I cannot."

_Of course not, Father._

Far be if from him to criticize the programming error masquerading as his dead daughter in an overly harsh manner, but she is beginning to repeat herself. It is a pity Geordi is not here. He had always valued his conversations with Geordi. But the man would have been dead for many years now.

_I wouldn't have to repeat myself if you'd pay attention, Father._

"I cannot say what you want me to say. I did not love you."

_Are you sorry for that too?_

"Yes. Yes, very much."

_Then that's close enough._

xxxxx

In the end, it is another quake that unearths him. After running a quick self-diagnostic and finding himself functioning adequately given the circumstances, Data sets off towards the former location of the colonists' settlement, not certain what his plans are for when he reaches there.

The climate is pleasant, the sun bright. The various avian life-forms of the planet are chattering with excitement at the recent tremor.

It is…he is unqualified to give aesthetic judgments. He will only say that the variety, after so long in darkness, is…satisfactory. Stimulating.

The settlement has become a proper town; the technology seems to have advanced considerably, with a distinct Cardassian influence. An alliance or a take-over? The mixed Cardassian, human, and Cardassian/human appearance of the current population of colonists suggests the former. The first three of them he meets run away screaming. The fourth listens to his story, and then says Data can stay in her barn as long as he needs to.

There is a feline in the barn. It appears to be mostly descended from the common Terran housecat, though the length of its claws suggests some Bajoran hara cat DNA in its ancestry.

It mewls at him until he present it with some ham from the sandwich the colonist had given him despite his informing her that he did not need to eat. When the ham is gone, it moves on to begging for the cheese. After determining that the bread and lettuce were of no interest, it attempts to use Data's leg as a scratching post.

Data observes the feline with interest. Something new to think about.

"I think I will call you…Lal," he says.

The cat blinks.

Data reconsiders.

"No," he decides, picking up the cat. He pets it to demonstrate affection. It purs in response. "I believe I will name you Fido."


End file.
